Long Day's Journey Into Knight
by Gimme Mocha
Summary: In the aftermath of the destruction of the Jedi temple on Coruscant, a Padawan flees with 2 untrained younglings. When cornered by a Sith Lord, how can they even hope to survive? See The Old Republic trailer "Deceived" on Youtube for the destruction!


"Rani, I'm tired."

"I know. I am, too."

"My arm hurts."

"I know, Lis'sya." Rani Setya, Padawan of the Jedi Order, tried to sound soothing, comforting, but she had little comfort to give. All she had to give the two younglings with her was the slender hope of bare survival. She tried to find hope in that herself; after all, staying alive was more than many in the Jedi Temple had managed this day.

"Rani."

She turned. Lairc stood facing the large window they'd just passed. She had hoped neither youngling would look out, but he, with his unerring instinct for trouble, had not only looked, he had stopped.

The view was the closest to hell Rani ever wanted to come. Overhead, Sith ships continued to bombard the helpless planet. Where the remnants of the Republic fleet had gone, she had no idea. Buildings burned in brilliant flashes of yellow-red explosions, and lances of violent energy spiked down from the sky to torture the city.

Lairc turned to stare at her, leaving one hand pressed against the cracked glass, his brown eyes somber and serious. "They're bombing the temple," he said, young voice darkened with pain.

"Don't look," she said, exhaustion blurring her words. "Come away from the window now. It's not safe."

The building shuddered around them, dust sifting down from the ceiling. She should've gone down, she thought again, down into Coruscant's darker layers, but the thought of buildings collapsing on them had seemed more threatening than buildings collapsing under them. And every time she thought about going down, every time logic tried to urge her to it, some instinct had protested with a sure sense of danger and had pushed her to stairs, to the few lifts still functioning, to walkways and skyways, up and up and always up.

Second-guessing herself was a waste of energy, she thought, shaking her head a little. Most of the Jedi had gone down, she knew. She had seen them, had seen the green and blue lightsaber blades shining through the smoke, and behind them a forest of red blades in pursuit, both sets vanishing deeper into the city's bowels. Rani couldn't have even guessed how many had been cut down in that retreat. Surely she and her charges wouldn't have escaped.

She looked at the younglings, studied them, measuring their condition against what they still had to accomplish. Lairc, both older and stronger with the Force, could probably keep going for a while yet but Lis'sya was too young to keep up this pace. She looked near collapse, cradling her broken arm against her body in an attempt to shield it.

Rani looked back the way they had come and searched her instincts. Nothing. If anything was after them, she could feel no hint of it in the Force. And she knew the touch of the dark side. She had grown up in a galaxy at war; now nineteen and a Padawan nearing Knighthood, she had faced the Sith on more than one occasion. Surely if anyone were pursuing them through Coruscant's still-soaring spires, she'd know.

Wouldn't she?

At the end of the hall was an abandoned conference room. Banishing doubt as both fruitless and destructive, Rani led them in there. Lis'sya instantly curled up in the largest chair, put her head down on the arm, and was asleep before Rani could finish inspecting the room. Lairc pulled a chair closer to the small Twi'lek girl and sat next to her, protective.

She smiled at the sight, a slender upsweep at the corners of her mouth, and went over to crouch next to him. "Your nose is bleeding," she said. "Let me see."

He swiped the back of a hand under his nose and winced, ducking away from her inspection. "I'm all right," he said. "Your shoulder's bleeding, too."

"So it is," she said, looking down, chin touching her chest. "It will stop."

"So will my nose."

It would. Given time his broken nose would heal, as would the bruises on his neck, fingerprints of a dead Dark Jedi who had found it more amusing to strangle a child with his bare hands than with the Force. She stepped on her anger. No need to be angry with a memory of a dead man. "You shouldn't have jumped into the fight."

"He was going to kill you."

Probably, she acknowledged silently. She had fought Dark Jedi before, yes, but fighting one lone Sith apprentice with her Master near at hand was a far different thing than fighting alone in the ruins of her life against one riding a wave of hungry triumph.

Aloud, she said only, "So I should thank you, then."

"It wouldn't hurt."

Rani managed another faint smile and set a hand on the boy's head for a moment. "Rest," she said softly.

Following her own advice, she sat on the floor and let her head fall back against the wall. It didn't seem possible that everything she had based her life around could crumble so quickly, so completely. She couldn't even guess how long it had been now. Hours, perhaps. It felt like days. She was so tired. She closed her eyes.

Rani adjusted the helmet on Lis'sya's head. Even though it was made specifically for Twi'leks, the fit was still wobbly and uncertain. "Give your head a shake," she said.

_Obediently, the Twi'lek child shook her head vigorously, and the helmet slipped over her eyes. Lis'sya giggled and tipped her head back to peer with bright, sparkling eyes up at the older Padawan. _

_Rani grinned._

_To one side, Jedi Master Shi'lin led young Lairc through another lightsaber exercise. Rani glanced over and smiled to see the two of them connecting so well. It was, she thought, yet another clue that her time as a Padawan was coming to an end. If she knew him, Master Shi'lin was shopping for another apprentice. He liked humans, he used to say. He thought their hair was funny, especially in the mornings. And he had always preferred students who were stronger with the Force than their contemporaries, perhaps because he himself was relatively weak._

_He was a good teacher for the strong ones, others had told her. That the master could accomplish so much with so little taught the students to be humble. Power wasn't, after all, everything. Not that Rani was the most powerful Jedi of her class, but she knew she was stronger than many. Lairc was the same way. And he was eleven now, not too young to be chosen as a Padawan._

_Shi'lin put a hand flat on the boy's head to keep him at bay. Rani expected Lairc to take a swing or two with his practice saber anyway, but the human child ducked instead and kicked Shi'lin soundly in the shin. The Master howled in feigned pain and hopped around, drawing laughter from the three who watched him._

_It slithered through the warmth and peace of the temple, strangling her laughter with predatory intent. Something cold and dark swelled in the Force, a threat, a promise, a reckoning. Rani's head snapped left and up. Outside the training rooms, outside the inner sanctum, something was coming. She looked back at her Master in confused alarm._

_"Stay here," he instructed, his familiar voice calm and steady as he called his lightsaber to hand with a gesture. "Protect the younglings." And then he was gone, just a flicker of the hem of his brown robe to mark his passing._

_But the darkness was still coming, closer and closer, pressing down..._

A whimper shocked her awake. The room had gone dark save for the ruddy glow of the fires outside that shone through the windows. Rani couldn't guess how long she'd slept. The bombs had stopped falling, judging by the silence. She looked for the younglings.

Lis'sya still slept, but fitfully now, her lekku twitching. Beside her in his chair, Lairc was watching Rani, his eyes wide. She felt his fear, and then knew its cause.

The darkness she felt hadn't only been in her dream. It was in the hall.

She dragged herself to her feet, her lightsaber already in her hand. Fear swirled around her, an emotion she controlled. The adrenaline it provided would be useful; the emotion itself would only hamper her. "Wake Lis'sya," she said, eyes on the door. "Be ready to run. Stay behind me."

The presence, that cold, coiled, oily presence, came no closer. Nor did it retreat. Rani took a deep breath and looked back at the children. Lairc and Lis'sya stood staring at her, his arm around her shoulders. She nodded, and walked to the door with as much calm as she could muster, drawing on the warmth of the Force.

At the end of the hallway stood a shadow illuminated only by flickering flames and the glow of destruction. "I come hunting Jedi," said a deep, rough voice, "but find only children."

With her left hand, Rani gestured Lairc and Lis'sya on down the hallway beyond the conference room. They moved but didn't run, reluctant to leave the sphere of her dubious protection.

"Well," he continued when she made no reply, "prey is becoming scarce in any case. There are too many of us, too few of you. And the strongest of you aren't even here. Not much of a challenge. Very disappointing. I must remember to complain to Lord Angral later."

Rani's blue eyes flicked behind the Sith to the door at the end of the hallway. If she could knock him back through it, she could shatter the controls and lock it. It would buy her time to run with the younglings. Giving no hint of her intentions, she summoned the Force, shot out her hand toward him, and pushed.

The Dark Jedi took the hit to his chest, didn't even bother to dodge or protest. He twisted in midair, moving with the kinetic force, turning her energy to his advantage. His left foot hit the wall and with a shove he pushed himself across the hallway. His right foot slammed into the cracked window, the impact sending spiderwebs of fractures across the rest of its length and width. The energy of her attack thus dispersed, he landed in the center of the hallway, perfectly balanced, waiting.

This was no apprentice. Rani felt her insides freeze.

He chuckled. "Jedi child. You're almost too charming to kill. I could make a deal with you, perhaps. Come with me now. Take my hand and I'll spare your life." He extended a black gauntlet toward her, fingers crooking. "If you don't take too long to make up your mind, I might even be pleased enough to let the little ones go. Killing them isn't worth the energy it would take."

For a moment, she felt the temptation. She was so tired. He wasn't likely to offer a second time, and if she went with him it would mean an end to the fighting and running, no more need to fear the bombs or the Sith troopers or the Dark Jedi themselves.

He must have seen or sensed the faltering of her resolve. He beckoned her again. "Come, girl," he said, softer. "There is nothing for you here now but death."

"There is no death," she said automatically.

His anger spiraled, lashing against her sensitivity. "I have taught many Jedi otherwise today," he said. His lightsaber lit, a bloody slash of red against the black of his cloak. "One more lesson, then."

She dropped into the opening stance of Makashi and ignited her own lightsaber. The hum of hers answered his in the otherwise-silent hall, brilliant blue to fiery red. "Lairc," she said, staring past her blade at the Sith. "Run."

In two running steps, the Sith shed his cloak and was on her. He didn't bother with subtlety, employing no niceties of elegance in his attacks. His lightsaber slammed against hers with brute force, sheer speed making up for what he sacrificed in grace. The weapons screamed where they met, shrieks of power throwing sparks into the air.

But Makashi was an ancient form designed for this, for the duel of swords. Rani backpedaled and circled, conserving her energy, tiny flicks of her wrist catching his weapon each time it descended toward her. Her arms ached under the impact, her teeth shook with each powerful downward smashing blow.

She flicked a hand forward to give him another shove. Far weaker than her previous effort, it had no hope of knocking him down. He sprang backwards with the energy of it rather than being knocked off-balance and his lightsaber swept toward her exposed wrist. She blocked, but had to half-twist her body to get her blade there in time and the motion took her out of form. His blade curved out and down, its tip describing an arc that seared across the top of her exposed thigh.

Rani cried out and faltered on her injured leg. Before she could recover, he swatted his weapon against hers, knocking it from her hands with one powerful slap.

"Pathetic," he snarled. The gauntlet so recently extended in overture slammed in her cheek, a backhanded blow that knocked her to the floor entirely.

Desperate, Rani reached for her lightsaber hilt. His booted foot came down on her wrist, pinning her to the ground. "Children," he spat over her cry of pain. "Stupid waste of my time. You should have taken my offer when you had the chance, Jedi girl."

The red glow of his lightsaber pressed closer to her face, pausing inches from her eyelashes. Slowly, too slowly, it shifted sideways. "And look at this," he said. "Not even a Jedi. A Padawan." She heard the sizzle, smelled the stench of burning hair as his lightsaber separated the long dark braid from her scalp, hissed as the blade kissed her skin.

Rani panted for breath and stared down the hall. In the crazed light bleeding through the badly cracked window, she could see Lairc. He hadn't run. And when she was dead, the children would die next.

_Run_, she begged him silently.

"Goodbye, Padawan," the Sith said.

A chair flew from the conference room and down the hall. The Dark Jedi whirled, lightsaber sweeping up to slash the object in two.

Rani didn't get up. Inspiration exploded inside her, filling her with energy and hope. She summoned her strength and directed a third push at the black back of the Jedi. He leaped, yet again using the power of her attack to fuel his own motions. His feet came back, intended to push off against the window a second time.

With a shout, Rani bent all her will, all her remaining stamina, into one last Push. And she directed that power, not at the Sith, but at the window behind him.

The abused glass gave way, shattering outward into the night air high above the city of Coruscant. The Dark Jedi, having no time to adjust, flew backward through open space. His head cracked against the top of the window, and his lightsaber dropped from his stunned grasp. She only heard his screams for a moment as he fell before the sound was obliterated by the winds, the distant explosions, the roar of ship engines high overhead.

Rani dragged herself to the window and braced a hand on a section of pane free from any lingering shards. She hauled herself to her feet and looked out. Wind whistled past her, carrying the fumes and ashes of the destruction of the city, blowing her hair up.

Up, she thought wearily in belated understanding. Up and up and always up.

There was no sign of the Sith.

She dropped back to the floor and lay on the carpet, coughing.

After a moment, something heavy and soft fell atop her. She opened her eyes to see Lairc adjusting the folds of the Sith's robe over her. "The chair," she said. "That was you?"

He nodded, face white and pinched with fear.

"I told you to run."

"He would have killed you."

She tried not to laugh and coughed some more. "Yes," she said. "I suppose I should thank you."

On his face, she detected the ghost of a smile. "It wouldn't hurt," he said.

After a moment, she forced herself to sit up. The hallway was growing colder, and wind still skirled through the opening. She looked left, then right, and searched for an answer.

Lis'sya voiced the question. "Where do we go now?" she asked, tiny voice almost smothered by the wind.

"Down," Rani said with a sigh of relief. "We go down."

It took another full day to get from the spires of Coruscant to the bleeding underbelly of the city, a full day of walking over bodies they tried not to recognize and through rubble they tried not to recall. Rani's borrowed robes and red lightsaber got her past what soldier patrols they couldn't dodge. Evidently, the Dark Jedi had a reputation among the rank-and-file, and no one wanted to question her too closely.

Finding the Jedi proved to be easier than she thought.

She led the two younglings down a back alley toward a backstreet combat pit she remembered. Once upon a time, her Master had taken her there to see, to learn, to question why people would do such things to each other. It had resulted in an intense discussion, and had removed some of the blinders from the then-naïve young Padawan.

Today, she was interested in it because she remembered it had a well-stocked infirmary.

One moment she was stumbling through the dark, all but tripping on the hems of the overlarge robes, Lis'sya in her arms and Lairc by her side. The next, she froze. Three lightsabers bit into the fabric of the robes, two green and one behind her she could not see the color of.

"You have taken many lives, Sith," one of the Jedi spoke. "I think these children will not be among them."

"No!" Lairc cried.

Slowly, Rani lifted her head and shook the hood back from her face.

"Rani!" a familiar voice blurted out in surprise. The lightsabers winked out.

She turned. Not Master Shi'lin, but a Nautolan Jedi her master counted as a friend. "Master Triks," she said.

One of the Jedi, reassured now as to her identity, smiled at her and took the sleeping Twi'lek child from her trembling arms. She let her hands drop limply to her side, unsure if she had the strength to ever lift them again.

"Come inside," Triks directed, gesturing toward the combat arena. "It's not safe for us to be on the streets. Most of us have scattered," he continued, leading them past another pair of Jedi and several Republican guards, "but some have stayed here to set up an aid station. It's not wise to gather, not yet. But you can rest here. We'll see to your wounds."

"Master Shi'lin?" she asked, leaning heavily on his arm.

He shook his head slightly and pushed her down onto a bed in the infirmary.

It would have been too much to hope that her master had lived through the assault on the temple. There had been so many people, civilians and soldiers and Jedi and Sith alike, dying in those first hours after the initial attack she hadn't been able to separate one pulse of death in the Force from another. She hadn't known when he died. It made her feel ashamed, somehow.

Beside her, she saw Lairc lying down on another bed. He looked over at her as she looked at him, each assuring themselves that the other was well.

"You have a bodyguard?" Triks asked, noticing the exchange.

"He saved my life," she replied.

"Twice," the boy said.

She nodded and closed her eyes. "Yes. Twice. My apologies, Lairc."

"Ah," Triks said, amused. It was one of his greatest gifts, Master Shi'lin had said. Triks could always smile, always find tiny moments of humor to brighten the bleakest times.

His fingers brushed through her hair. "What is this, then?"

It took her a moment to remember her braid. "A trophy claimed by a dead Sith Lord," she said. "It was nice of him to leave me plenty of other hair. I can rebraid it."

"No," he said. "Jedi Knights don't wear braids."

With that, he left her to the medics and the autodocs. Blessed numbness spread through her as injected drugs took effect. She didn't fight them.

As the city trembled under the occupation of the Sith invaders, Jedi Knight Rani Setya slept, gathering her strength.


End file.
